Monday, November 7, 2011

Here we go again.

It's the night before a scan. Every 9 weeks I have a CT scan. The scan is no big deal. I'll go a half hour before my appointment to the chemo room. My sweet nurses will access my port. I'm thankful to have a port (which is next to my left shoulder just below the skin. You can't see it if you're not looking. But if you are, you would notice a little triangle thing that kind of pokes my skin up. In case you were wondering.) I never knew what a port looked like before I had one. The port access doesn't hurt because I have a numbing cream that I put on an hour before they are going to poke me.

Once they access my port, they draw some blood and send it to the lab STAT so they can make sure my kidneys are in good shape to handle the dye they'll shoot through my body during my scan. Whew.

I leave the chemo room with a tube dangling from my chest. I head across the parking lot to radiology at the main hospital. They check me in and hand me an ENORMOUS Styrofoam cup of red Kool Aide with a touch of contrast that will run through my veins so they can see what's going on inside of my body. I sit in a room with others drinking *the Kool Aide*. I have one hour to finish it. Others usually gag it down. I quite like it. (Weird, I know.) But it makes me SUPER cold. I usually bring a jacket and in the dead of summer have been known to ask for a warm blanket.

After an hour they call me back. I hop on a table that has a pillow for my head and my feet. Depending on the day, this is the most relaxed I'll be! They settle me in and get me situated on the bed just right. They take a few initial pictures and then they shoot the dye into my port. Its the weirdest sensation because you can feel the dye move through your body. It finally makes me warm.

They take a few more pictures, usually waiting a few minutes as I lay there waiting for my bladder to fill up. Lucky me. They need pictures of my bladder. I'm usually on the bed not longer than 20 minutes. They always offer me a drink and a snack when its over (I've had to fast at least 4 hours but because I like to go first thing in the morning, I've usually fasted all night, and I'm hungry. But not thirsty... remember, the red Kool Aide!)

Tomorrow will be my 8th CT scan. I'm getting to be a pro. And yet I'm a nervous wreck. There are no signs that anything will show up on my scan. I feel great. (Better than ever?) I had an exam 3 weeks ago that was great. I'm still doing chemo. My doctor has nothing but good things to say about my prognosis. Yet, I've shed tears tonight. I've worried. I've wondered. I've felt the what ifs creep up. I've imagine tumors. I'm a head case. I'm trying to Trust. Believe Jesus. Conquer fear. Lean on Him. Pray. Adjust to the new normal.

I'd appreciate your prayers. All of the above is easier said than done!

3 comments:

God has you covered with His peace. And I know remaining calm is better said than done. It's a crazy time but just think of that relaxing 20 minutes on the table. Taking pictures of your perfectly designed and healed inerds (I love that word).

You are doing great, keep positive and know that this family is praying hard for you!

You are absolutely normal. And you are so correct in saying 'easier said than done.' Part of what you may be going through is the 'habit' or pattern your mind and emotions go through for certain things. Again, not easy, but my friend encourages me to redesign the habit or pattern. If I know the thought or action is not good for me, reject it. Make a new thought or action. By no means am I an expert. YEARS of bad recordings in my head :) but I will make improvements each time.

You are an incredible daughter of God. He loves you and has given you hundreds of truisms to hold on to. May you know His peace in the whole process.